


Hoist the Colors

by Orchid_Kasumi



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Captive!England, Dubious Consent, Kind of cliche England, M/M, Old RP, Pirates, Semi-sadistic!Spain, Spain and England are assholes, Spain/England
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-26 09:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2646290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orchid_Kasumi/pseuds/Orchid_Kasumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur didn't expect the battle to end in such a way: tied up in Antonio's cabin and at the Spaniard's mercy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Arthur had been looking for a chance to engage the Spaniard in battle, an chance to challenge the supposed power of the seas. And as luck would have it he wound up managing to come a crossed the San Anna, Antonio's personal ship. The battle had started quickly and the green eyed Brit swung over in the middle of it, landing with sure feet on the deck of his enemy's ship. Spotting the dark haired captain he drew his cutlass and lunged at the man, "Hello Anthony!" Arthur called in a rather cocky tone.

As soon as he saw Arthur's ship off in the distance, Antonio knew he was in for trouble. Fantastic, dealing with a violent, competitive Brit was just what he felt like doing today. He stood and grabbed a hold of his battle ax, hoisting it over his shoulder. As Arthur's crew boarded, Antonio watched for the Brit himself, and was drawn out of his thoughts by a rather aggravating voice. He dodged the Brit's attack and turned to face him, swinging the ax at Arthur to push him back. "Hola, Arturo. Encantado de verte, en serio."

Arthur's lips quirked downwards. The mispronunciation of names seemed to have more of an effect on himself than the Spanish personification. He might not be able to understand all of Antonio's words but he recognized his name. "Say it bloody right!" The Brit snarled, dodging the ax and attempting to attack again. Cannon fire shook the deck, but Arthur barely noticed it as he took another step, angling his blade over the handle of the ax, to cut the Spaniard's shoulder. He would prove his superiority over the Captain of the Armada!

Antonio let out a sharp growl as his shoulder was cut, and swung his ax at the arm holding the cutlass. "Correcto? No sabía Arturo estaba incorrecto." He gripped the handle of the ax with both hands and shoved Arthur back, returning to his normal grip as the Brit fell. "Perspectiva, no?"

The blade of the ax made a long gash in his forearm, but Arthur managed to maintain his hold on the handle. However, it was lost when he was shoved back. He fell on the injured arm, letting out an sharp curse. His cutlass spun a crossed the deck and Arthur rolled onto his back, glaring up at the Spaniard. "Perspective huh?" He grinned, even though he was apparently unarmed. Arthur reached for the pistol in his belt, "I'll show you perspective..." He fired at Antonio.

Antonio grinned and put one arm up in front of himself, taking the bullet in the forearm. He swung his ax in a low circle to smack the pistol out the the Brit's hand. "Esta lindo que estas tan determino. Pero... por que estas atacandome? Yo creía podemos ser amigos, no?" 

The only thing he understood was something about them being friends. Arthur gives a light laugh, "Why? Just because your boss is married to mine? No thanks!" However, now he is only stalling for time, he's completely unarmed at this point. Bugger! Why didn't he keep an extra knife or something on him? "And speak bloody English! I don't understand your pig language."

The Spaniard stands over the Brit, holding him in place by stepping firmly on the end of his coat. "Idioma de cerdos? Yo debo degollarte ahora... Fine. Si español is too... how you say... difficult for you to understand, I will speak in your language." He held the heavy ax steadily over the Brit's neck, threatening to lower it at any time.

Arthur freezes, staring up at Antonio with narrowed green eyes. He swallows hard and feels the blade brush the hollow of his throat, resolving not to move anymore. The sounds of battle are fading around them and though the Brit hasn't torn his eyes away from the Spaniard standing over him he can tell that his crew has lost...

"Things are getting quiet back there, no? And considering I'm not being attacked, I'm going to take a guess and say my men won. Not surprising, especialmente, but I'm still muy proud of them. But there real question here is what to do with you." He smirked down at the Brit. "I doubt either of our bosses will be very happy if I kill you. I suppose the mas inteligente decision here would be to hold you for ransom." He lowers to ax just a small bit to nick the skin of the Brit's neck. "Of course, after the inconveniencia you've caused me, I can't just let you go."

He winced, feeling the cut, though shallow, still well and send a single trickle of blood over his pale skin. Glaring up at the other he asked, "Then what do you plan to do with me?" Arthur wasn't afraid of Antonio, even if he was holding a large ax to his neck, no. Besides, he would not be killed... he didn't have anything to fear right?

"Well I believe you have two options there. I could send you down to the cells, where you would be at the mercy of all of my men. Or I could send you to the captains quarters, where you would be at /my/ mercy." As Antonio spoke, two of his crew members began to bind Arthur's arms and legs to keep him from attempting an escape. Antonio took a step back from Arthur, but kept his ax as a precaution. "So, as I believe it's said... pick your poison."

Wrong. He'd been wrong. Gritting his teeth Arthur muttered, "You... I'll stay with you..." One enemy would be easier to overpower than ten... regardless... the Brit's mind was already planning unsavory things to do to the Spaniard the next time they met. There was no way that he would not attempt revenge, it was humiliating enough that he lost, but with the implications of Antonio's words... as it's said: paybacks a bitch.

"So flattered to be the lesser of two evils, truly. Now, if your ship is unmanned, I do believe I have cargo to help unload. No need to thank you, I'm /more/ than happy to take all of it off your hands." Antonio chuckled. "I'll let these to take you to the captain's quarters, and the captain himself will be with you shortly." He smirked at the Brit and then left him to be taken away, boarding Arthur's ship to help the rest of his crew unload it.

Arthur yelled abuse at the Spaniard as he was dragged into the cabin and thrown inside. He fell awkwardly onto an oriental rug spread under the table holding maps and a compass. Huffing he mushed himself into a sitting position with some difficulty. Unfortunately, there was nothing else to do but wait for Antonio to return. When the Spaniard did walk into the cabin he would find the new occupant sitting against a table leg, knees drawn to his chest and bright green eyes narrowed in a glare.

Antonio leaned down and smirked at Arthur. "Pitiful defeat is really quite a good look for you." He knew he'd feel the retributions for his actions now, months, maybe years into the future. But at the moment, Arthur was at the Spaniard's mercy, and Antonio wasn't one to waste a perfectly good opportunity.

"Oh shut up." Arthur growled up at him, he scooted more under the table so that he was completely obscured from the Spaniard's line of sight unless he were to kneel down. He didn't know what was in store for him, but he sure as hell wasn't going to take it laying down.

Antonio pulled out the desk chair and sat down, leaning forward to look at the Brit under his desk. "Hiding, are we? Is someone afraid of the big bad Spaniard?" He reached under his desk and pulled Arthur out from underneath it, dragging him across the floor and finally setting him down on the floor behind his chair. The Spaniard turned to face the Brit, glaring at him as if almost daring him to move again.

Arthur returned the glare, this one daring the Spaniard to try something on him. "Me afraid of you? I knew you were foolish you damned Spaniard... I had no idea you were delusional." It was worth it to see the emotions play a crossed Antonio's face in response to this biting banner. Arthur smirks, "And whatever happens here... I'll pay you back ten fold once I'm back in England."

"I'm sure you will. In fact, I'm looking forward to it." He gave Arthur a crooked grin. "But let's live in the present, shall we? After all, there's no time like this very moment." He ran his fingers through the messy hair of the Brit in front of him, shooting him a mockingly endearing smirk. "Oh Arturo. Why did you get yourself into this mess, anyway?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you." The Brit snarled, whipping his head around to snap at the fingers playing with his hair. He would not sit there and be treated like an dog whose ears you would scratch. Even if he was biting like one, it was all left open to him for attack. "And why did I do this?" A note of pride slipped into his voice, "To show you that you are not the power of the seas... well you won't be for much longer. I'll see you sink next time."

"You sound so prideful, tied up there on my floor. I'm flattered that you put so much effort into proving your worth to me. If you wanted my approval, you could have simply asked." He continued to pet the Brit's hair, degrading him further. "Pero esta demasido tarda para eso. Y usted entiende tan bien, tambien."

Arthur bit down on the side of Antonio's hand, feeling an eye tooth break skin and at the first bit of copper in his mouth he let go. "Don't speak Spanish to me, wanker..." He growled, "I don't want your bloody approval!"

Antonio took a moment to wipe the blood into England's cheek. The movement was surprisingly gentle and caused a flicker of unease to appear in Arthur's eyes. Spain took advantage of that hesitation. He kicked England square in the chest, pushing him back across the wall, and moved his chair forward to hold the Brit there with his foot. "I don't believe you're in any position to tell me not to speak in my native tongue. Ransom be damned, the loot on you ship was worth twelve of you."

The kick knocked the wind out of him, which he didn't regain right away with the boot pressing into his sternum. He glared upwards with hard eyes, chest heaving under the pressure of Antonio's foot while his lungs tried to fill all the way. "S-so kill me then..." Arthur managed to rasp out, daring the Spaniard to do what he was hinting at. His heart was hammering and it strangely exciting, this battle of words between them.

"Now now, I wouldn't want to piss off my boss. However, tempt me enough, and I might just take you up on that offer." He ground his heal into the Brit's chest. "So if I were you, I'd be on my very best behavior. You do want adequate food and water, don't you?" Despite the physical pain Antonio knew he was causing the other man, the Spaniard still maintained a twisted, sickly-sweet smile.

A chocked hiss made its way out of his lips as the pressure on his chest increased, he was soon struggling for breath again. But he could hear the truth in Antonio's words. If he was to kick his sorry arse later he would need his strength. So, when he finally had enough air to form words he managed a raspy, "Y-yes... I do..."

Translations:

(I’m happy to see you really.)

(Correct? I didn’t know Arthur was wrong. Perspective, no?)

(It’s cute that you are so determined but, who are you attacking me? I thought we could be friends, no?)

(Pig language? I should slit your throat right now.)

(But it’s too late for that. And you meant so well too.)


	2. Chapter 2

"That's what I thought. So behave yourself." Antonio gave Arthur's chest one last stomp before lowering his foot. He dragged the Brit back in front of him, petting Arthur's hair in a degrading manner once more. "Look who's learning so quickly."

Arthur gasped, eyes opening wide a bit more as the pain in his chest flared from the kick to his chest. The bruise that would spread over his skin would last for days no doubt. This time, when he was seated in front of Antonio he let the Spaniard pet his hair with little more objection than an glare. He instead focused his energy on trying to take a full breath again.

"Much better, Arturo." He turned and reached for a plate that he had set down on his desk when he walked in. "I brought you food." He look down at the Brit, whose hands were still bound, and smirked. He broke off a piece of bread and held it in his palm under the Brit's nose. "Here. Eat."

He grimace, frowning in distaste at the thought of having to eat out of Antonio's hand like a real dog or some other sort of small animal. Still, he was hungry and that need won out over his pride. Arthur lowered his head and picked up the piece of bread with his teeth, careful to not touch the Spaniard as he pulled the food into his own mouth. The Brit sat back and swallowed food.

Antonio broke off another piece of bread and fed it to the Brit again in the same manner. He repeated this process until the whole roll was gone, and then held out a tomato in front of the Brit's mouth. "I know you do not particularly like these, but I believe it is safe to say that you will eat it anyway, no? And then maybe you can have some agua."

Arthur wanted to protest, but water would be nice since his mouth was rather dry. A small noise of disgust left him before he leaned forward and pulled a piece of the fruit free and swallowed it. He kept at it, a bit of the pale red pulp dribbled down his chin, but he managed to finish the tomato. The Brit sat back again swallowing to try and wash the acidic taste out of his mouth, "May I have water now?"

Antonio smirked. "I suppose so." He grabbed the glass of water from his desk and held it up to Arthur's lips. "Drink fast," he commanded, "or you'll drown." He began to pour the liquid into the Brit's mouth, slowly at first, but then at a faster pace, forcing him to drink or drown.

The Brit's eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment as he started to drink the water but his eyes quickly widened as the glass was tipped mouth farther over. Somehow he managed to get most of it down, though some of it still spilled over and dripped onto his shirt, and left him gasping and coughing when Antonio finally pulled the glass away.

The Spaniard chuckled and set the glass back down, and used the back of his hand to wipe the water and tomato juice off of the Brit's face. "Now that you've been fed, I'm going to go eat with my men." Antonio stood and leaned down to grin maliciously and pat the Brit on the head. "Try not to miss me too much, si? I'll be back before you know it." He took the plate and glass off his desk and walked off, locking the door behind him.

Once the door was shut Arthur set about trying to wriggle free of the bonds on his wrists and ankles. The cut on his forearm was still stinging and he could feel dry blood matting the sleeve of his shirt to the wound. When pulling proved useless he started to look around the room for something to cut himself free with as well as debating how to best move around. Hopping would make too much noise, perhaps he could crawl on just his knees? There was an small pen knife on the desk and he had to push himself to his feet and fumble for a moment to pull it free. Arthur cut his finger in the process but didn't even hiss in pain as he angled the blade to work at the bindings on his wrists. His ankles would be next.

Antonio didn't trust Arthur for a moment, and so he ate quickly and returned to his room. Upon opening the door, he found the Brit struggling to cut his wrists free with a small pen knife. He leaned against the door frame and watched in amusement, giving a soft click of his tongue to both express him discontent and draw Arthur's attention. "Well, well, well. What am I going to do with you? Seems a can't even leave you alone for moments without you getting yourself into trouble, no?" He walked over to where the Brit was on the floor, leaned down, and snatched the knife from Arthur's hands. "I am going to have to work harder to keep sharp things locked up, am I not?”

The small noise made the Brit jump and he looked over at the Spaniard, but still continued to cut his bonds at a faster rate. Dammit! Arthur glared and tried to hang onto the knife but it was pulled from his grip anyway. He gave an smirk, "Think I'm that much of a threat do you? I'm honored Anthony~" Arthur said in an mocking tone. Some of the rope was cut but only enough to give him some wriggle room, and even that was not enough to pull free. Bloody hell!

"A threat? Oh no, please do not misunderstand. I simply do not want you escaping, and I am certainly not up for you causing me more irritation than you are worth." He took out his own knife and held the blade firmly under the Brit's chin, tilting Arthur's head upwards and leaning down in front of him so that their faces were only inches away from each other and the Brit was forced to look him in the eye. "And in the future, I trust that you will learn to say my name properly, no?"

Arthur suppressed an shiver as the cold metal was pressed against his skin, angling his head up to forcibly hold the Spaniard's gaze. Still, he could not keep a bit of sarcasm from his voice when he replied. Perhaps he just liked goading the tan skinned man too much, "I suppose only time will tell..."

Antonio smirked and pressed the knife a bit harder against Arthur's skin, drawing a small trickle of blood. "Are you sure that is the attitude you wish to take with me? I thought you were always much smarter than that, but it seems clear now that you truly are the child who pokes the lion." He ruffles Arthur's hair, chuckling at the Brit in front of him. "The little boy who gets himself eaten, no?"

Arthur gives no reply, just stares up at Antonio willing himself not to flinch or make any noise as he feels the knife make a new cut on his neck, an fresh dribble of blood joining the dried one on the side of his neck. He bites his lip and holds as still as possible, since the blade is close to some rather important veins, oh yes, he'll taunt the lion, but he'll make sure he doesn't test the line too much... for now.

"Nothing to say for yourself?" Antonio grins and puts his knife away. He steps behind Arthur and examines the ropes on his wrists. "You did not manage to do too much, did you?" He tightens the ropes again and laughs. "Ah, but I suppose that is to be expected, is it not?" The Spaniard lifts Arthur up by his waist and sets him down on his bed. "My my, how time flies. It's getting late already."

An soft breath leaves Arthur as the knife is finally pulled away, only to be inhaled sharply again when the ropes around his wrists are tightened, leaving him as immobile as before. The Brit flinches when he is lifted up by Antonio and sat on the bed, he scowls at the comment on the hour. Ignoring the rest of Antonio's jibes he just lays back on the bed, thinking that the Spaniard expected them to sleep in the same bed and at this point he is too worn out to argue. "So it would seem..." He mumbles, looking off to the other side of the cabin.

Antonio chuckles and sits down beside Arthur, pulling the Brit up to a sitting position again. He runs his fingers through Arthur's hair and then pulls him into a very rough kiss, a battle to exert his control over the other man. The kiss catches him off guard, but Arthur is not about to let Antonio control the kiss. He twists his head in an attempt to break it, but when that doesn't work he attempts another tactic: his own attempt for dominance. It's not affection but another fight between the two of them and Arthur kisses back, pressing against the Spaniard, eyes narrowed a little. After some time, him pulls back and grins cruelly at the other man. "Now get out of my bed and go to sleep."

When Antonio pulls back he is panting lightly and glaring daggers at the other, once again miffed that he didn't manage to gain much ground against the other captain. The glare turns to a look of surprise as he was kicked from the bed to fall to the floor, an soft grunt coming from him. "If I didn't know any better..." The Brit grumbled from his spot, trying to get comfortable, "I'd say you enjoyed that."

"Enjoyed what? The kiss, or you falling on your culo? Because I found both amusing." He stretches out on the bed and turns to face his captive on the floor. "Sleep well down there, Arturo." He laughs again and flops back over on his back. He shuts his eyes and feigns sleep, waiting for the other to drift off first.

It takes him a while, because the floor is hard and his cuts sting. His arms and legs are also restricted so no matter how he lays something is twisted or pressed at an awkward angle. Still, this isn't the worst condition he's had to sleep in, not the worst place he's had to sleep... he could be in the prison cell after all and God-knows-what could be happening to him... Eventually, he does manage to drift off into sleep, his breathing hitting a steady rhythm that would alert the Spaniard to his change in condition.

When Antonio becomes confident that Arthur is sleeping, he too drifts comfortably off to sleep.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> England spends another day as Spain's captive.

Antonio awakes early the next morning, sitting up and setting his feet down off his bed and on either side of Arthur's head. "Rise and shine, bello," he says sarcastically. "Time to greet the day with one of those radiant smiles you are oh so famous for. Oh wait..." He chuckles and stands, done with his taunting. He pulls on his shirt and coat, and then sits on his chair to wait for Arthur to fully awaken.

Where the hell is he? And why does his arm hurt so damn ba--- dammit! Arthur's eyes clear of their bleariness as they settle on the Spaniard at his desk. The Brit struggles to get into a sitting position, he's rather sore. Rolling his shoulders, to work the muscles back to a good condition he looks over at Antonio, "And here I was hoping I had just drank too much last night and hallucinated everything." He grumbles to himself in an rather sarcastic tone. Arthur can't really move so he leans against the side of the bed, watching the Spaniard, "And to what do I owe the pleasure of being awoken in such a manner?"

Smirking, Antonio says, "Unfortunately enough for you, I cannot be by your side every moment of the day. I have duties as the captain of this ship. So here is what is going to happen." His tone becomes authoritative as he leans down to make eye contact with the Brit. "I am going to get you some food, which you will eat without incident. Then I am going to leave you in the room while I go out and do what I do as the captain of the ship, during which I do not want to be disturbed by you making trouble. You will obey these wishes and behave, or else. Are we clear?"

"Tch..." Arthur gives a light scoff at the ordering tone of the Spaniard, but gives a jerky nod of his head. "Fine..." Still he can't help but ask, "Am I going to be tied up for this entire trip?"

"That depends on how you act and my mood. We'll see." Antonio stands and leaves the room, returning moments later with a plate of grapes, a tomato, and bread, and a glass of water. He sits in front of the Brit again and holds out a piece of bread in his palm for Arthur to eat.

Arthur eats from Antonio's hand, the same as yesterday, though he still hesitates before actually eating the food off of the Spaniard's palm. He eats while still trying to maintain as little physical contact with Antonio as possible.

Antonio chuckles as he breaks off bit of bread, noticing how rigid the Brit seems. "No need to be so stiff, Arturo. I don't plan on hurting you." He hold his hand in front of the Brit's mouth again, offering him the bread.

"Your behavior yesterday states otherwise." Arthur said, tipping back his head to show the cuts on his neck. But then he leans back down and takes the next bite of bread from the Spaniard's fingers.

"Let me rephrase. I do not plan on hurting you _that badly_. Better?" He holds out the last bit of bread for Arthur to eat and then grabs a handful of grapes. "You are, in fact, still relatively unharmed, are you not? You have all your limbs, everything's functioning as it should be. Hell, you ought to thank me for being so kind." He smirked and tossed a grape into the Brit's mouth.

Arthur glares but chews and swallows the grape before shifting so that his legs were more curled to the side, his knees were getting a bit tired. "Oh and what constitutes not hurting me that badly?" He scoffs, eating another grape that Antonio offers him.

"As I said before, all your limbs are still attached, and you're not on your knees begging for mercy." He grins. "Which means that I perhaps have some work to do, no?" He feeds the Brit another handful of grapes before reaching for the glass of water. "Remember, just like last time." He pours the water into the Brit's mouth.

And just like last time, Arthur ends up chocking and coughing at the end of it, eyes wide as he nearly inhales a mouthful of water. Unable to wipe his face, he struggles to brush the water that had dribbled over the sides of his mouth on the shoulder of his shirt. Panting lightly he regained a bit of his composure. "Where did you learn to feed someone?" He growls.

Antonio reaches out and assists Arthur in wiping the water off his face. "Oh, well sadly enough for you, I did not go to school for such a thing. Shocking, si?" He picks up the tomato and takes a bite, standing to leave. "I will see you come dinner time. Be good until then, or else."

"Right..." Arthur said, twitching away from Antonio's hand. Though he doesn't move much save to lean back against the bed again. Maybe while Antonio's gone he'll sleep some more or try to make an proper plan of escape...

Antonio leaves and locks the door behind him, heading out to face the day ahead of him. He decides to skip giving Arthur lunch, and so he does not return to his room until nightfall, bringing supper for the Brit.

Arthur is curled up against the side of the bed, his knees drawn to his chest, arms limp behind his back. He was dozing and quickly pulled himself back to alertness when he heard the door to the cabin open. At the sight of the food the Spaniard as brought for him his stomach growls and he hisses in discomfort, he couldn't afford to show Antonio any more weakness.

"Hola. Me extrañas?" He sets the plate down on the floor and looks at Arthur, petting his head in a patronizing manner. "Have you been sleeping this whole time?" He looks around the room tentatively, but sees nothing out of place.

"I think I'll miss you the day hell freezes over..." Arthur grumbled, ducking under Antonio's hand before looking up at him and rolling his eyes. "Oh I'm sorry... I would have cleaned up a bit for you but, " he thumped his heels on the ground a little, showing his bound ankles, "But I'm a little tied up at the moment."

"Oh, hilarious. Really, you are muy comico." Antonio rolls his eyes. "However, I am rewarding you for good behavior." He unties Arthur's wrists. "You may feed yourself. However, try anything and I will make sure you are very sorry." He nudges the plate of food towards Arthur with his foot. "Eat up."

The Brit rubbed circulation back into his wrists for a moment before starting to eat the food that Antonio had brought him. The meal was the same as breakfast: a roll, a tomato, and a glass of water. He ate the tomato first to get it over with since the slightly acidic flavor still bothered him before eating the roll and drinking the water at a much slower pace than the Spaniard fed him. Grudgingly he mumbled, "Thank you..."

"Of course," the Spaniard said, smiling maliciously. He waited until the Brit finished eating and then tied his hands back up behind his back. "Just a precaution, I am _sure_ you understand." He leaned over and pulled the Brit into another aggressive kiss, dominating it as he had the first time. The Spanish captain pulled away and smirked down at his captive."I will be back soon. In the meantime, I hope you will stay out of trouble, si?"

Arthur had his tongue bitten three times before he conceded to the Spaniard and he stopped everything all together. He just sat there while Antonio ravaged his mouth, and perhaps to credit of his nickname the Spaniard still left him panting lightly when he pulled away. Arthur just rolled his eyes at the command an wiped his mouth off on the knee of his pants when he curled up his legs again, "I'll count the minutes shall I?"

Spain took the plate and cup and went back out on to the deck. The time he spent locked up in the cabin was rather boring, so he passed it by looking around for potential weapons though any that were around were out of his reach or locked up. Huffing he moved around a bit and wound up reading the charts that Antonio had laid out over his table. It was a rather comical struggle to worm his way around the room, and he fell three times trying to sit in the chair. But, at last it was done.

Upon returning to his room, Antonio found Arthur reading one of his less important charts. Antonio was glad for that: these particular charts did not have any valuable information on them. "Interesting choice of reading material." He gathered many of the other charts that were being kept in low cabinets and his desk drawers and locked them in a high-up cabinet. If Arthur was able to move around bound then he would have to take extra precautions.

"Nothing else to really do around here..." Arthur said, watching Antonio put the other charts away before smirking, "Is there something you don't want me to see?"

Antonio smirked. "Isn't that a loaded question? Eso es para mí saber, y para ti preguntar." He chuckled and glanced around the room, skimming the surroundings to make sure nothing was out of place. Satisfied with what he saw, he plucked Arthur from the chair and dropped him on the floor. Antonio sat down himself after reclaiming a couple charts from the higher cabinet. "I have work to do. Please do not disturb me."

"Right...." Arthur laid down on top of the rug since it was more comfortable than the wooden floor, having nothing else to do since he'd read the charts available to him. There was nothing to indicate what direction they were heading or for how long they would be out at sea even from the charts he did read. He sighed and soon started drifting off again...

When Antonio finished his work, he stood from his desk and walked over to his bed. Smirking, he glanced over at the Brit on the floor. "Sleeping down there again tonight, Arturo?"

Spain’s voice pulled him back to consciousness. It took Arthur a moment to piece together what he had said and respond. Arthur opens his eyes, and looks up at the Spaniard, "Didn’t you kick me off the edge last night?"

"Why yes, I did." Antonio smirks. "However, you have been so well behaved today, I think you deserve a comfortable place to sleep, si?" He chuckles. "Of course, you may stay down there if you wish." It would also be easier to keep an eye on the other nation. If Arthur somehow slipped his bonds, crawling on the floor would be an easier escape then slipping out of the bed. Plus it was always nice to have a warm body next to you.

Again, the Brit had to war with his need to preserve his dignity and longing to spite the Spaniard or to comply because then he would actually get a decent sleep. He pushed himself to his feet and managed to sit on the side of the bed, "I'll sleep here..." Arthur said, looking over at Antonio.

"Go ahead, then," Antonio said, smirking. He made a very small amount of room for the Brit and then removed his shirt and coat, and then lay back on the bed.

Sighing, Arthur laid back on the bed, curling up on his side and facing away from Antonio. He was still wearing his pants and shirt, but he'd managed to kick his shoes off.

Antonio reached out and ruffled the Brit's hair before repeating his routine from the night before and feigning sleep until he was sure that the Brit beside him was sleeping.

"What am I your new puppy or something, Anth--Antonio?" Arthur scoffed, before trying to relax enough to fall asleep. It was a bit harder than last time, but probably only because the Spaniard was in such close proximity. He did, however, drift off before Antonio did.

When he awoke the next morning Antonio kicked England off of the bed. It seemed to be becoming a new piece of his morning routine. At least he made sure to aim for the carpet this time.

Translations:

That is for me to know and you to wonder about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story in its original form rambled a bit and I will do my best to condense it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh!! I'm so sorry it has been so long since I have updated. I will try to keep a more regular schedule, but no promises. Especially since I have a new AmeRus fanfic that I want to write. (Fair warning: this new project will be.... intense...)

Whap!

"Bloody hell!!" Arthur growled, not liking being woken up in such an manner. He struggled to his knees, even though he'd landed on the rug he's still fallen face first and that had hurt. "You damned wanker!" The Brit growled at Antonio, struggling to turn and face him, "Can't you wake people up like a normal person?"

"I could, but I like to be creative. It keeps you on your toes, does it not?" He finished pulling his coat on and then bent down to look Arthur in the eyes. "You know the drill by now, si?"

The Brit scoffed and tried to make himself comfortable on the floor. When Antonio leaned close, Arthur turned his head away, "....Yes I do."

Antonio grinned. "Good. Then I expect no trouble from you. Don't let me down." He left the room, but recalling that he had yet to feed the Brit, returned shortly with a plate of food. He set it down beside Arthur and undid his writs again. "Eat up."

Arthur started to eat the food given to him as he thought out his options, he could attack the other man, but that would leave him with the crew to deal with. And, if he was correct there was no way that they would follow him and would most likely stop him if he tried to escape after incapacitating their captain. Perhaps if they made port somewhere he could jump ship and find his own way back to England. The Brit paused when eating and asked, "Could I get something to clean this?" He held up his wounded arm, it wasn't infected, but leaving it matted to his shirt would not help the healing process. True, as nations their bodies could heal themselves, but it worked best when wounds were cleaned.

Antonio glanced at the wound and nodded, after all, he could likely get more in ransom if the Brit was in good condition. He opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a rag and some gauze. He used a bit of the water he had brought the Brit to wet the rag, and then pulled the Brit's shirt off. It was pleasing to see that Arthur only protested mildly at being stripped of half of his clothing. If only he were so compliant all of the time... He kneeled down to begin cleaning the Brit's wound. "I know you prefer me not to touch you, but it would be well advised to hold still."

"Just don't try anything..." Arthur grumbled, watching Antonio's movements as he worked, the gash was still a little raw since pulling off the shirt had taken most of the scabbed over blood with it, however at least it didn't bleed freely.

"Oh, you wound me. I would _never_ do such a thing," Antonio says, sarcastically. The mocking tone is not wasted on his captive who scowls in reply. He finishes cleaning and bandaging the wound. Taking his time, he re-dresses Arthur and returns the dirty cloth and remaining gauze to his desk drawer. "There, I hope that is better. Now finish your food quickly, I do not enjoy having my time wasted." He sat back up on his chair and waited to the Brit to finish eating.

Once he was finished with his food he handed the plate and cup back to Antonio, "Thanks..." The comment is given grudgingly still, left over courtly training no doubt.

Still, it is nice to hear the gratitude, even if it is little more than a hollow gesture. Spain can't help but fantasize about how other pleasantries would sound when given in a much more sincere manner from those same lips. Lost in his thoughts, Antonio sweeps from the room with little more than a verbal remainder for the Brit to watch himself in his absence. The door clicks and locks behind him.

Antonio left his hands untied, so Arthur managed to pull himself free of the bonds around his ankles and sighs as he stood properly for the first time in a couple of days. He spends his time looking at the charts again and attempting to figure out where they were... Arthur is carefull enough to never move anything too much that he cannot return it to its proper spot. When the Spanish captain returns Arthur is sitting in a chair beside the desk. The Brit looks up, playing himself up as merely bored instead of wary, before turning his attention back to the book he'd grabbed from one of the shelves.

"Oh dear. It seems I forgot to retie your hands. I hope you did not get into any trouble because of my tired mistake." Antonio scans the room, crossing it in a few easy strides. "You've been looking at my charts. Hmm... discover anything interesting?" He puts a hand on the back of the chair Arthur is sitting on, and turns it so that it is facing the bed. He sits down on top off the still rumpled sheets and looks at the Brit. Antonio reached over the distance between them, placing one hand on his knee. "I doubt that a bit, as not only are you unable to read Spanish, but I didn't leave anything of any real importance out. But do share what you've learned."

His fingers curl and tighten ever so slightly, able to feel the heat of Arthur's skin under his clothes. Antonio wonders how long it will be before that muscle begins to waste away under his small portions of food. True, he wanted Arthur to keep from getting sick, but keeping him weak would knock him down a few pegs nicely. And it would keep his uppity captive from catching him off guard with this complacent act. It was all an act wasn't it?

"I'm not foolish, I know it would be futile to attempt to kill you or anything of the sort when I'm outnumbered at least ten to one by your crew outside." Arthur said, crossing his arms at his chest, legs at the knee to dislodge the unwanted hand. He huffed, bouncing a foot slightly as he contemplated the Spaniard in front of him, "I may not be able to read Spanish, but I can calculate the movements based on the routes you've drawn." He smirked, "I will say that three of them are rather out-dated, though I won't say exactly which ones..."

Uppity indeed.

"Smart choice, and it's actually 13 to one." He smirked back at the Brit. "Don't you worry about me, I know which ones are out-dated. As I said, I left nothing particularly useful." He cocks his head to the side and looks at the Brit. "However, I do wonder if your snooping constitutes as getting yourself into trouble. After all, as it is said, it's the thought that counts, no?"

"You're the one who left them out on the table." Arthur said with a huff, "It wasn't snooping if you left it out in the open for any one to read." He glares at the Spaniard.

Is that the way you see it?" Antonio continues to goad the Brit, grinning cruelly at him. "I doubt you'd be very happy if I rummaged through your papers, no?"

"You already stole all of my cargo, I think you've gone through it already." His eyes narrow as he looks at Antonio, "So I say we are partially even now."

Antonio's grin widens, the Spaniard amused by the reaction he is getting from the Brit. "Mmm, I don't think so. I think you'll have to make up for the irritation you've caused me. Especially after I specifically told you not to get yourself into trouble."

Arthur tenses in the chair, "Oh? And how will I be making it up to you?" He's bracing himself though he doesn't know for what...

"Oh, well for that I can give you two options. Haces caso. I can either throw you to the hands of my crew until I feel you've learned your lesson." He pauses for a moment to let that option sink in to Arthur's mind. "Or..." He pulls Arthur in for another violent kiss, and smirks as he leans away. "Your choice."

Translation: Pay attention.


	5. Chapter 5

The Brit freezes there in his chair for a moment, before smirking, "Do you give all your 'guests' such an one sided offer?" Of course, of the two his choice was already made. Arthur pushes himself forward in the chair again, "Lesser of the two evils isn't it?" He murmurs before kissing Antonio on his own.

 

Antonio fights to dominate the kiss once more, and after pulling away says, "Estoy halagado. Pero... me llamó malo. Que cruel eres, Arturo," he says jokingly, threading his fingers through the Brit's hair. "Y para respondo tu pregunta, no, yo no lo hace con todos de mi presos. Solo los unos que tienen suerte," Antonio teases before pulling Arthur back into the kiss and beginning to work on removing the Brit's shirt.

 

Arthur grumbled as his shirt was pulled over his head, briefly breaking their kiss, "I did not understand what you said at all... though don't expect me to be happy about this chance... the only other option you gave me was to be your crew's chew toy." Still, he pushes open Antonio's coat, working on sliding it off his shoulders.

 

"Estás descontento? Descubriremos cuánto tiempo esto perdura." He shrugs off his coat and pulls the Brit off the chair and into his lap, beginning to kiss and bite at Arthur's neck. "I will say, I am probably the safer choice."

 

A soft moan manages to escape Arthur as he feels Antonio start to work at his neck, his own hands rest against the front of the Spaniard's chest. Though he doesn't pull him away, instead simply holds him in place by curling his fingers into fists over the front of his shirt. "I suppose you are..." He muses.

 

Antonio chuckles against the Brit's skin and says, "And likely less painful." He returns to kissing Arthur's neck, running his fingers down the Brit's spine. He moves his hands to the front of Arthur's pants and sets to work on removing them. Arthur rises to his knees and helps Antonio shift his pants down and off before starting to work on stripping down the Spaniard as well. He might be a prisoner on Antonio's ship but he was going to press for at least some equality in bed if he could help it... The Brit pushes against Antonio's shoulders, making him lie back on the bed while he runs his hands down and opens the front of his pants.

 

Antonio chuckles a bit as he is pushed down and wriggles his hips and legs to help the Brit remove his pants, and reaches one hand out to slowly stroke Arthur's member. The captive has to admit, he's surprised that Antonio has allowed him to get away with this much, but he's not complaining. Especially not when he finds himself moaning and back arching as he hardens in the Spaniard's hand. Arthur moves to straddle Antonio's hips, bringing them closer together. Not wanting to be out done he starts to carefully, teasingly, press himself over Antonio's member. Arthur looks down at him with a smirk. A brief moan leaves the Spaniard as his trapped rival begins to grind down on him. It is a pretty sight, but doesn't leave enough room for him to control things.

 

Antonio himself pulls back and sits up. He grips Arthur's hips, holding him firmly on his lap and begins to kiss at his neck again, moving one hand to continue stroking the Brit. Arthur groans as he is held in place by the Spanish captain, but that doesn't stop him for long. He reaches down and gives the same treatment, fingers teasing Antonio's length before circling and starting to pump softly. His other hand wanders up into the Spaniard's hair, threading through it as his hips thrust a little to meet Antonio's fingers.

 

This earns another, lower moan from his Spanish captor and Antonio bites at the soft skin of Arthur's neck to muffle the noise. Slowly, his hands shift from their grip on Arthur's waist to tease up and down his sides. It is surprising yet pleasing to note that his body is not completely littered with scars and remains very smooth. Hearing the Spaniard's noises Arthur smirks and continues his treatment, every once in a while pulling his hand back to tease the head with his fingertips.

 

"Do you like that... Antonio...?" He chuckles.

 

Moaning lightly himself, Arthur's nipples harden under Antonio's touch as his hand moves over the front of his chest. His captor smirks and continues to tease his hardened nipples, pulling lightly at the pink nubs and enjoying the noises Arthur makes as he reacts. Antonio grudgingly pulls his hands back a few minutes later, opting to grasp both of the Brits in one of his own. The Spaniard sits up properly, pulling his body away from the temptation of simply ravishing his captive then and there. Arthur chose him and it would be the least he could do to make sure this wasn't too messy. Lifting his other hand, he pressed three fingers to Arthur's panting mouth. "Chupas, Arturo."

 

Arthur's scowl at the lack of attentions on his aching cock melts into something different. Oh... Arthur flushed and parted his lips, tongue darting out to flick against Antonio's fingers before pulling them in to his mouth and sucking. Still, he tugged at his hands, wanting them free again as he continues to wet the Spaniard's digits. Antonio held Arthur's hands firmly in place as the Brit sucked on his fingers, taking lightly when he tried to tug himself free. Once each digit was thoroughly coated, Antonio finally let go of Arthur's hands, pulling one of his own on the Brit's hip and entering Arthur with the fingers of the other. Well, he didn't need to be too gentle either, it would leave the wrong impression.

 

The Brit gasped as he was pressed into with Antonio's fingers, hips shifting in order to try to make them brush the right spot. He needed to ease the burn. His own hands move again, one goes back to pleasing the Spaniard while the other gently tilts his head back so that Arthur can start sucking on the spot where the side of his neck meets his shoulder, determined to leave his own mark. Antonio angles and stretches his fingers to search for Arthur's spot. He leans head back so that Arthur had more skin available to him, and lets out soft groans at what the Brit's other hand his doing. When the Spaniard decides that Arthur is ready, he removes his fingers, pulls the Brit's hand back from his own length again. It is then that Antonio lines himself up with his captive's entrance, holding him over his lap. The Spaniard thrusts up without warning, burying his cock all the way inside of him and holding it for the briefest of moments before starting a steady pace.

 

Arthur gasps loudly, breath hitching as Antonio enters him. It takes a while to adjust but eventually, Arthur finds the discomfort is dulling. He groans and starts to roll his hips in time with the other man's while his hands hold onto Antonio's shoulders. The Brit moans against the side of Antonio's neck before lifting his head to kiss him again. Antonio's thrusts quicken a bit in pace as they kiss. And, he reaches out to grab Arthur's member, pumping it in time with the movement of their hips. He takes his other hand off of the Brit's hip and runs it up his torso and down his back, finger tips ghosting over Arthur's pale skin.

 

Goosebumps raise over the Brit's flesh wherever Antonio brushes his fingers and Arthur trembles lightly as he starts to thrust into the Spaniard's hand. He groans lightly, pressing himself against his captor as he meets the increased rhythm of their coupling. The Spaniard purrs out the Brit's name as he continues to buck his hips and stroke Arthur's length rhythmically. He engages the Brit in another aggressive kiss, running his teeth against Arthur's bottom lip when he pulls away and begins to kiss and nip down the Brit's neck and chest. Arthur returned the kiss, though he easily let Antonio keep his dominance. And when the other pulled away he moaned out his name, feeling himself grow harder form the Spaniard's attentions, leaking over his fingers.

 

The Brit knows he's going to be covered in little red marks from all of the nipping and biting but he doesn't care at this moment. Instead he starts to gently rake his fingers down Antonio's back. Back arching against the Brit's fingers, Antonio in return begins to pump faster and occasionally release Arthur's member to tease his fingertips up and down the length before gripping it again. The Spaniard feels himself growing close, and his thrusts grow deeper and faster as he searches for his captive's spot. It doesn't take Arthur much longer to come and he does so with an sharp cry of Antonio's name, spilling over the Spaniard's hand and against his own stomach. Panting lightly he continues to ride over Antonio, easing down from the lingering waves of pleasure from the nerves being stimulated inside and out causing him to tighten hard around the Spaniard.

 

The tight warmth around his member causes Antonio to finish shortly after, growling out the Brit's name with a deep moan. He pulls out and lays back on the bed moving over to make room for Arthur. Arthur lays beside him, panting lightly, slowly he turns to face Antonio.

 

For a moment he simply watches the other before saying, "... So, I'm one of the lucky ones aren't I?" He smirked, remembering the bit of banter they'd shared before this whole ordeal, he hadn't understood all the Spanish, but he'd gotten the jist.

 

Antonio chuckles and turns on to his side to face the Brit. He smirks back at Arthur. "What do you think?" he asks teasingly. "Para alguien quien has dicho que no saber español, you certainly seem to understand quite a bit of it."

 

The Brit rolls his eyes, "That book I was reading earlier was a dictionary." He admitted with a chuckle, "I figured... if I'm going to be stuck here I might as well learn what you're saying to me." Arthur huffs and rolls onto his back, "So... are you going to kick me over the side of the bed again tomorrow?"

 

"Smart move, much smarter than telling me to speak English as you tried to before." The Spaniard chuckles again. "That's really your concern at this moment?" He stays lying on his side, and ruffles the Brit's hair. "I will do no such thing, if it is really such a prevalent worry."

 

Arthur rolls back to face him, one eyebrow raised, "Oh? And what should be my most prevalent concern at this moment?" He asks, ignoring the fact that his hair was messed with, yet again, a bit of sarcasm coming back into his voice.

 

"Any number of things. Whether or not I allow you to remain untied come tomorrow, for one. Whether or not you will remain in my favour or somehow manage to poke the lion." He chuckles and grins at the Brit. "But really, I would just worry about getting to sleep. Buenas noches, Arturo." He rolled back on to his back and repeating his routine of waiting for the Brit to sleep first.

 

Translations:

I'm flattered. But, you did call me evil. You're cruel Arthur.

And to answer your question, no, I do not do this with all of my prisoners. Only the lucky ones.

You're discontent? We'll see how long that lasts.

Suck, Arthur.

For someone who claims not to know Spanish...


End file.
